


all you had to say

by Nochi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-05 23:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15181379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nochi/pseuds/Nochi
Summary: Forget the Galra, Keith's either going to die from sexual frustration or embarrassment, whichever reaches critical mass first.





	all you had to say

**Author's Note:**

> This is baby's first Voltron fic, please be kind. Set in some nebulous period in season 1, timelines are hard when nobody wants to stay home for more than ten minutes at a time.

This was getting ridiculous.

It had been months since Keith decided that whatever stupid thing his heart was doing was a medical anomaly born of traveling across several galaxies and that it would probably go away after a while. It only did it when Shiro smiled at him because space science. Or something. Pidge would know.

It had been at least six weeks since it started doing it even when Shiro wasn't around, just whenever Keith thought about him or someone mentioned him in passing. It hadn't been long enough for him to acclimate yet, was all, and anyway he was under a lot of stress.

Three weeks ago, Shiro had laid his hand on Keith's shoulder in the mess hall, telling him solemnly but warmly, "You did good work today. I'm proud of you." And Keith's stomach did a little flip that felt like he might throw up, but in a good way.

Two and a half weeks ago, Keith had woken up from a very specific sort of dream, face flushed red-hot in the dark, and his voice came out in a very small whisper: " _Oh._ "

Since then it was impossible for him to be around Shiro without getting tongue-tied or flustered or just making himself look like an idiot in general. Shiro would just _look_ at him and whatever dignity he had just fell out all over the floor. He hated it. He hated looking stupid in general and in front of Shiro specifically, and he hated not knowing how to make it _stop._

After one such disastrous team meeting, Shiro stopped him in the hallway. "Hey, Keith."

"Ah - hey. Shiro." Keith let the self-deprecating tirade go on in his head without him; he was used to it by now.

"We haven't sparred in a while, huh?"

The mental tirade stopped as Keith tried to jump conversational tracks. That wasn't at all what he'd expected Shiro to say.

"No," he responded. "Haven't really had the chance."

Shiro chuckled. Keith's stomach imitated a pancake. "No, I guess we haven't. We should change that. This afternoon?"

Keith remembered how Shiro sparred. Lots of grappling. He also remembered losing a lot. Which, in grappling, meant getting pinned.

"Sure," he replied, and was surprised when Shiro responded as though he'd heard him, since he was pretty sure his voice had reached a pitch only audible to dogs.

He did manage to stay standing until Shiro rounded the corner, at which point he collapsed against the wall with his hands over his face. 

* * *

 

They met in one of the less-used training rooms. It was smaller than the others, and a little less well-lit.

"My theory is that it used to be a storage closet," Shiro said, stretching his arms over his head. "And they converted it when they started having to train more soldiers."

"Makes sense." Keith started his own stretches, using it as an excuse to close his eyes. Shiro was in a tank top and long shorts, perfectly normal training gear, but also perfectly designed to ruin any kind of higher mental functions Keith might have wanted to utilize. It'd taken everything in him not to show up in full paladin armor, himself.

They stretched in silence for a while, and Keith bitterly contemplated his situation. He didn't _want_ to react like this to Shiro. In a perfect world he would have realized what was going on earlier, and dealt with it like a normal adult. Because the crush - and that was what it was, no matter what he'd spent months telling himself - had definitely started out emotional. If he'd confronted it then, Shiro could have shot him down and he'd have sulked for a few weeks before getting on with his life.

But no, he'd tried to will it away, and his heart had retaliated by getting his dick involved, and there was no reasoning with that guy. He'd tried _._

When he could no longer claim he wasn't properly limbered up, he and Shiro squared off on the mat. Crouched in front of each other, one hand reached outward and upward, until they crashed together, fingers locked.

Shiro took the advantage almost immediately, manipulating Keith's limbs like he was so much ragdoll, twining his arms through Keith's and locking his fingers behind Keith's neck.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" His voice was low in Keith's ear and his breath hot against his neck, and Keith shoved his elbows back, pinning Shiro's arms as he swept around to the side and yanked his legs out from under him.

He rolled away, crouched on the mat as Shiro righted himself. "What makes you think anything's wrong?" he asked.

Shiro gave him a knowing look. "Because the Keith I know would have gone for a pin after that move."

 _Shit_. Keith grimaced as they squared back up. Shiro's eyes met his, intense from scant inches away. Keith went on the attack earlier than he meant to; anything to break that gaze.

Shiro wriggled out of the (frankly awful) hold Keith attempted, and Keith found himself face-first on the mat, arms twisted behind his back and Shiro's knee against his spine.

"Same question," Shiro said calmly.

"Did you just ask me to spar so you could interrogate me?" Keith asked, straining against Shiro's grip.

"It's about fifty-fifty." Shiro released him, watching as Keith took a lap around the small room.

He had thus far avoided embarrassing himself, but something about Shiro pinning him the way he had - leaving him with no options for escape save for Shiro's mercy - had frazzled his nerves and stirred something in his belly.

 _I love learning new things about myself at completely inopportune moments_ , he though grimly, heading back to the center of the room. He and Shiro squared up for the third time, and as they locked eyes, Shiro asked: "Is it something we need to ask Allura about?"

Keith stumbled, falling past Shiro, and caught himself on his elbows.

" _No,_ " he said, flipping around to face Shiro, who was standing upright now. "Why would I need to ask Allura?!"

"I don't know!" Frustration was clear in Shiro's voice for the first time. "You're acting weird, you barely look at me - do you realize this is the most you've said to me in weeks? Something's _wrong_ , Keith, and you're not telling me what it is!"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Keith felt bad. He'd been so focused on not looking stupid in front of Shiro, he hadn't realized that he really hadn't seen Shiro very much at all.

But the rest of him had spent the last few weeks taking cold showers and long detours around the castle to avoid crossing Shiro's path, and that was the part that kicked out at Shiro's ankle. Shiro dodged, not expecting the strike, and swore under his breath as his feet got tangled up and he landed hard on his side. Keith pounced, planting a leg on either side of Shiro's torso. Shiro outweighed Keith by a good thirty pounds, at least, so it was mainly Shiro's surprise that let Keith pin his arms to the mat.

"Does this count as _talking_ now?" Shiro asked, eyes hard. "Is this the best conversation I'm gonna get out of you anymore?" He sighed, and his expression softened into something more akin to confusion. "Is it something I did? Do you not trust me enough to talk to me about it?"

Keith sat back a little, stunned. For the second time that day, Shiro had surprised him completely. He'd _hurt_ Shiro, he realized, feeling a lightning bolt of guilt hit his heart. He'd been avoiding Shiro in fear of looking stupid and Shiro thought _he'd_ done something wrong. That Keith was... _shunning_ him.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No, Shiro - that's not - "

"Then what?" Shiro asked, flopping his hands on the mat in exasperation. "What's got you so cagey around me all of a sudden?"

A dozen responses went through Keith's head at once. Setting his jaw, he decided to go with the absolute stupidest one.

He leaned forward and kissed Shiro. 

* * *

 

It really was a very stupid idea. The angle was weird and he was still pinning Shiro's hands with his knees, and they were both sweaty and gross from sparring. Keith's eyes were screwed tightly shut, waiting for Shiro to punch him or shove him off or something. _At least I can finally get on with my life_ , he thought distantly, even through the sinking dismay of what he was certain was coming.

But after a few seconds of frozen shock Shiro turned his head, shifting his mouth against Keith's. The motion sent an electric tingle across Keith's lips, and his eyes flew open as he pulled back just enough to stare down at Shiro, who had a pleased, almost _relieved_ smile.

"That's all you had to say," he murmured, and Keith dove down to kiss him again.

He moved this time, not so much pinning Shiro as laying atop him, and oh, that was _so_ much better. They were pressed in a solid line from hip to chest, and Shiro's hands were free to run up his sides and into his hair, nails catching slightly on his scalp. Keith moved the hand he wasn't leaning on to rest against the back of Shiro's neck, feeling the muscles there tense and shift as he angled his head differently, deepening the kiss. 

Keith wasn't entirely sure this was actually happening. He kept waiting to wake up, alone and frustrated in his room, another night's torment complete. But Shiro was warmer and more solid than any dream version had been, the arm curled over his lower back was holding him more tightly than he'd ever imagined, and if he was being honest his knees were a little bit more sore than he'd probably have considered in a fantasy.

 He shifted on them, trying to find a way to ease the pressure on his joints without breaking the kiss.

"Here," Shiro mumbled against his mouth, and with one deft movement he flipped them over.

Keith blinked up at him. It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed the kissing. The kissing was very nice and he hoped to return to it immediately if not sooner. But Shiro hovering over him, that little smile on his face, the weight of him pressing Keith into the floor and the pressure of his hand on Keith's wrist...it made him consider other options.

"We're going to have to talk about this," Shiro said, and Keith felt it rumble through his chest where they were pressed together.

"I know," he said, already deflating at the thought of sitting up and holding conversations, with words, like a human being. But then a little smirk crossed Shiro's face, and he leaned his weight back on his knees, rolling his hips against Keith's in a long, slow motion. Between the surprise, the electric fire that shot through him, and the knowledge that Shiro was already as hard as he was, Keith's head dropped back, a noise escaping him that he'd never admit to in public.

"Later," Shiro said, leaning in to press his lips against Keith's throat. "We'll talk later."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed the story, consider hitting me up at nochiwrites on tumblr. It's the best place to keep track of my writing, as well as when I open commissions. There are also options listed there to support me and my writing, if you so desire!


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